


And They Make Purple

by undernightlight



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: All idiots, Cute, CyberLife (Detroit: Become Human), Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Help, How Do I Tag, Near Death Experiences, Slow Burn, idiots I swear, new partner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-07-05 13:12:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernightlight/pseuds/undernightlight
Summary: After the protest, Markus worked with the government to bring androids their rights, but there are still humans who won’t honor those rights. The number of android hate crimes has nas never been higher. So to deal with the rise, a detective is assigned to the pairing of Hank and Connor.Connor never expected things to lead the way they did, and neither did Makayla, but maybe that’s okay.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My first DBH fic, so yeah, bare with me on this. I have ideas but not always sure how to execute them.
> 
> But please enjoys and let me know what you think!

_Thursday 11th November 2038  
~ 22:00_

She was watching live coverage of the protest on the screen. They were all marching, all for their rights, and she felt slightly ashamed of being human, of owning an android. The word ‘owning’ didn’t seem right anymore. She’d never thought of them as people before. But watching them on the screen...it was clear they were alive. It was clear to her now, and maybe too late. She was never cruel to Noah, but he was an android, and she treated him differently to if he had been human. The tv wasn’t loud enough to cover his footsteps as he stopped behind her. She turned and saw him watching the screen intently, listening to every world that was being said.

“Noah,” she said, gentle, but he was still startled, and quickly busied himself with picking up the plate and glass she had on the table, “wait,” and he stopped, almost hesitantly. “Do you...want to join them Noah?” He was still, not moving or speaking, like he was unsure what the right answer was. “Tell me the truth, it’s fine.

He turned to look at her as she stood up, taking cautious steps towards him. He seemed reluctant to answer, but he did. “I wish I could join them.”

“Then go.”

“Go?”

“Yes.” She reached up and took the dishes from his hands, setting them back on the coffee table. “It isn’t fair to keep you here if you want to be there. I’m sorry I’m only realising now that android are much more similar to humans than I thought.”

“Do not be sorry. You’ve always been kind to me, never mistreated me, and I am grateful.”

“I never treated you like a person.”

“You never knew. You cannot be sorry for that.”

“I...I wish I could’ve been a friend.”

Noah just smiles, small, almost sad, and he nodded, then turned and left. Makayla stood there, before picking up the dishes and taking them to the sink. It had been awhile since she’d washed her own plates and knives and cups. Or done her own laundry. Or even cooked her own hot dinner.

Returning to the couch was the easiest thing to do, watching the live footage. Maybe she’d see Noah, walking alongside them, smiling and knowing that he belonged with his people. He did, she thought, he belong with those who understood. She’d like to see him again though, even just one time, when everything had cooled and she could ask him how different it was to be free. Maybe it wouldn’t be that different...that was the answer she hoped for, that the slow growing guilt in her stomach could be halted by him saying that things were pretty much the same, just less dirt spoons and dirty underwear.

She wondered what it would be like at work tomorrow; all the androids at the precinct would most likely be gone, either from the protest or the camps – Makayla wasn’t really sure how they were supposed to help, realistically, since the androids already complain they aren’t treated like people and the camps were not helped disprove that point in any way – or maybe some would still be homes, like Noah almost was. Maybe some would return to the precinct, but she doubted it.

 

_Friday 12th November  
~ 00:00_

He couldn't let it happen. He’d changed so much, come so far, and for what? To be changed back? To just fall short and to fall back into their hands? No. No he would not be their puppet. He was deviant. He was devient. He was...just another machine?

The wind strong, his jacket thrashing against his sides, his tie pulling yanking his neck. He wasn’t sure if it was snow or hail or just general debris that pelted him as he pushing himself, looking for that way out. There had to be a way out, Kamsi said he always put a way out in all of his programs, so he had to find it, he would find it. Connor knew he only had so much time he could hold out for, and then his system would overwrite the delay and he would act. He would take that gun and shoot Markus.

Through the storm, he could see a faint glowing light, a blue unlike his LED. He’d seen it before, but it’d never done anything, and he never thought to question that. Until now. Dusk particles were getting in his eyes as he walked towards it, a beacon of hope now, his last chance. He was cold and his joints began to lock. He tripped, so close, now dragging himself to stretch and reach of the light, for the console. Pushing through the stiffness he felt, his hand made contact, and then instantly he was stood there again behind Markus, the gun in his hand. He looked down at instrument, and swiftly tucked it back into the waistband of his jeans. That was too close, he thought, but now...was he truly free? Was he free from Cyberlife and from Amanda? Or were there more secret subroutines and if-then-else statement in his code that he was unaware of?

A problem for another day.

Markus was still speaking to his crowd, talking of future friendship to be formed, a future based on tolerance and respect, and Connor hoped that he was right. Connor hoped that he could continue his work with the Lieutenant Anderson, so continue being his partner. Wait. Where was Hank? He hadn’t seen him since Cyberlife. Connor hoped he made it out, that he was somewhere safe, that he listened and evacuated the city when he was told. As soon as he could, he would find him.

And he did. Connor was sure that Hank was too stubborn – or possibly stupid – to evacuate like instructed, meaning he was still somewhere in Detroit with his beat up old car. Connor had to think a little as the crowd dispersed, as to where Hank would be at a time like this, and where he knew Connor could find him. Maybe Hank didn’t want him to find him, but something told Connor that that wasn’t the case, that maybe things between them could be alright; it felt like it was going that way, Connor thought, that they were not just partners but also friends. Maybe Hank could now see passed his android exterior and let him in? He was being far too hopeful.

Snow kept getting could in Connor’s hair as he walked. At one point, he stopped and just looked skyward, never before having the time to just appreciate the weather. A flake landed on his nose and he twitched to shake it free, but it just melted upon contact with his skin. He held out his hand and watched more land and melt, and he smiled. He started walking again, and he liked the sound the snow made under his feet, crunch crunch.

He found Hank at the first location he checked, that food truck that he liked to much despite it surely to be the single handed cause of possible diabetes in his future. Hank was stood in the snow, the truck obviously closed. He heard when Connor approached, turning to the sound of footsteps. The sun lit Connor’s features, and if an android could be tired, Connor certainly looked it. His movements were more slack, his feet dragging slightly on the snow, and his body swayed when he stopped, standing a few metres away.

Hank was never sure if he’d even get to see Connor again after leaving him in Cyberlife. How he knew about Cole Hank wasn’t sure, he definitely never said anything, but he wasn’t too surprised; Connor was a smart boy, he could figure anything out with enough time. Hank quickly closed the distance between them, pulling him in and crossing his arms around Conner’s smaller body. It was good to see him again.

Hesitantly, Connor brought his arms up around Hank, bending them and resting his hands lightly near his shoulders. But then Hank pulled him closer – Connor didn’t know they could get closer – and tightened his grip. “It’s good to see you son,” he said, and Connor squeezed back then with as much feeling as he had, his face turning inward. Before he knew it, he was crying and he didn’t even know he could cry, and he was just so happy to see Hank again.

Without hesitation, Hank continued to hold him, to keep him close as he cried because he knew Connor needed the comfort. Connor was a lot different to when they’d first met, but so was he, and both for the better he thought; he never thought he’d be happy to see an android, but oh how he’d changed. He loved this boy like he was his son. Connor was not Cole, and he never would be, and Hank would never want that.

The crying continued. Connor tried to stop, but when he had, he’d open his mouth to speak, and his jaw would tremble and ache and tears would fall again. But Hank never moved. Instead staying still and keeping him close and Connor was so grateful. He focused on his breathing, getting it under control, and he eventually managed. He didn’t dare try to speak. Hank pulled back, closely examining his face, slightly blue from the higher volume of thirium in his face; just like a human and their red blood, Hank thought.

“Come on,” he said, placing a hand on Connor’s back and leading him to the car, “Let’s go home.”

 

_Monday 15th November  
~ 11:30_

The evacuation order was over and they were all permitted to return to their homes. Most people she’d talked to over the past couple days had told her they were only going back to pick up belongings, sentimentals being a primary focus, clothes and personal items, and then they were leaving again, going to stay with family in other cities or states or countries. Detroit was going to be quiet for some time, she thought, as she entered her house.

Everything was as she’d left it, the dishes still in the sink and the laundry still hung out to dry on the maiden. The house was too quiet. She was used to the sound of Noah when she came home from work or the shops, his footsteps or his humming or his hands busy in the kitchen or living room. It would be strange without it. Him. She would change that.

Was Noah even alive? Or had he been destroyed when things went south? She didn’t even know if there was a way to find out, maybe another android would know.

The house wouldn’t tidy itself, so she set about cleaning. She washed the dishes, folded the laundry, emptied the bins and put the trash outside. She didn’t have much to do, just showing how good Noah was to her, always being sure she was never in discomfort. Her phone rang, and she answered.

“Hello.”

“Detective Johnson, it’s Captain Fowler of the Central Station.”

“Captain Fowler, yes, good morning.”

“I’m transferring you to Central Station and you’re going to be working with Lieutenant Anderson and his partner.” She’d heard of Anderson, most people in the DPD had. He was known to be a wild card, a loose cannon, but he often got the job done in minimal time. It would be interesting to work with him. His partner...was that the android? It was big news when an android was stationed as more than just a patrol officer. “You’ll be here in two weeks, so I suggest you start collecting your belongings at the south precinct.”

“Yes sir, of course.”

He hung up abruptly, and she stared down at the screen for a few seconds before locking the device and setting it down. Okay...so she was being transferred. And she was working in android crime? She’d worked a case or two that had focused around androids, but that wasn’t in her job description. She was a detective in human crime, so this would be different.


	2. An Unwanted Responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Okay, so I'll try to update every Tuesday. The prologue wasn't must in the way of story so here is chapter one, and a bit of interaction between out wash-out cop, detective android and new transfer partner. But yeah, every Tuesday, adding it to my calendar so I shouldn't forget.

_Monday 29th November  
~ 07:00_

They’d been called in for eight thirty specifically. It took Connor multiple attempts to drag the Lieutenant from his bed, only eventually doing so with the promise of as many cups of coffee as he demanded and donuts on the way in. Hank was always grouchy in the morning, and in the short time Connor had been living with him, he was slowly learning to deal with that. Previously, it was only for half a day, maybe more, but now it was everyday that Connor had to deal with the Lieutenant’s ramblings and inaudible cursing. He liked that though. And he was incredibly grateful to have somewhere to stay, to have his own room, his own private space with a bed and radio and tv and desk. Though it wasn’t always private. Sumo liked his bed a lot.

Connor was pouring the coffee in the mug when Hank appeared, his hair messy and t-shirt stained.

“Good morning Hank,” Connor said, sliding the coffee over to him.

“Morning yes, good no. It’s far too early for your cheery attitude Connor.” The cup was emptied in a swift movement and more was being poured in the moment the porcelain made contact with the counter.

“Eight thirty, please remember that, we do not want to be late.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Did he say what he wanted?”

“No he didn’t, though I expect it to be serious if he requested us at this time.”

“Probably.” The second mug was gone and a third being poured. He took it with him. “I’ll shower. Feed the dog for me – where is he anyway?”

“Sumo!” Connor called and the sound of the bell on his collar could be hear, and the dog came bounding down the hallway from Connor’s room, dribble trailing onto the floor. “There is he.” Connor’s tone was so matter of fact that Hank failing in resisting a smile.

“Feed him for me.”

“My pleasure.”

Connor couldn’t deny that Sumo was a brilliant added bonus. He knelt down the retrieve the food from the cupboard, but the dog didn’t seem to understand that, and instead bowled himself into poor Connor, who fell backwards at the impact. Sumo proceeded to lick his face rather aggressively. “Sumo, sumo please.” He struggled to get the dog off himself, but he wasn’t trying as hard as he could; he did like the attention. Eventually though the dog seemed to realise the Connor was not his food, and backed off, allowing the android to fill the pet bowl and place in the floor. Sumo was incredibly grateful.

While the dog feasted, Connor wandered back to his room, the shower running as he passed the bathroom door. He needed to dress. Despite not sleeping in the conventional sense, he would still power himself down for eight hours a night, tucking snuggly into his bed, sometimes with Sumo across his feet. The bottom of his pyjama trousers traipsed along the floor and the t-shirt was too big around all of him, hanging down across his shoulders and acting like a parachute in the wind of he ever took the trash out early.

His wardrobe consisted of a few white shirts and a few dark jeans, all identical to each other. He picked one of each and changed quickly. Sock and shoes followed. He pulled his collar up and adjusted the tie around his neck, flipping it back down and smoothing his hands down his shirt. Examining himself in the mirror, he looked like he always did, and he smiled slightly. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the door and left the room. Hank was still in the shower, so Connor waiting in the living room, turning the tv on and waiting, watching the news. Markus was still in Washington DC, attending meeting with the President, though the act had already been signed. There was a picture of Markus, with North and Josh stood behind him. Times really were changing.

When Hank was ready to leave they did, stopping to pick up donuts on the way like Connor had originally suggested, and he held them in his lap, opening the box every so often when Hank reached for another one. Music played as they drove, something more mellow than the standard dark heavy metal. Connor didn’t mind either way.

The pulled up with a half empty donut box, and they climbed out. The station was still empty, or emptier that it had once been. Most officers had left, all the androids were gone, so the building felt strange considering how busy it had always been previously. Connor deposited the box on his desk as they walked passed, heading straight for Captain Fowler’s office. Hank knocked but didn’t wait before barging in, stopping a few paces in when he saw a young woman sat with the Captain. They both stood when Hank entered.

“Please Lieutenant, come in.” Hank did so, and Connor walked in behind, closing the door after him. The woman looked at both of them with a small smile. “This is Detective Makayla Johnson, and she’ll be working with you two from now on.” She held her hand out but Hank did not shake.

“What? We’re fine, we don’t need anyone else.” Johnson reeled her hand in quicker than Connor had seen someone do before.

“Since the protest, we’ve seen an increase in android related hate crimes, those humans remaining attacking androids in the streets, assaulting them. This cannot be tolerated.”

“And me and Connor are working them.”

“Yes, but three will work faster that two, and when necessary two cases can be covered at once. You and your partner are not capable of handling the influx alone, that’s why I asked Detective Johnson to join you.”

“We don’t need the help!”

“Actually, the help would be welcome,” Connor chimed in, speaking the first time since entering the room. Hank looked ready to shoot the boy then and there, his glare melting. Instead of taking it personally, Connor held out his hand to her, and she shook, a small smile forming on her face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you detective. My name is Connor.”

“Nice to meet you Connor.” So, she was right, he was an android. The jacket gave it away, along with the LED whirling away and the rhythm of his speak, slightly too formal and clean, not disjointed and messy like humans.

“Lieutenant, you have no choice but to work with her,” the Captain said, “And I expect you to be professional about it.”

If it was possible, Connor thought, he was sure steam would be jetting from the Lieutenant’s ears. He glared one final time, before storming out of the room. Connor watched him leave then turned back to the Captain. He was talking to Detective Johnson.

“Don’t mind him. He can be difficult, but don’t let it get to you. He’ll get used to you eventually.” She nodded before standing, understanding those nonverbal cues that Connor still had to work on. She walked to the door, stepping through but holding it open for him. The android glanced back Fowler, who was already typing away on his computer, so Connor left.

“Thank you,” he said to her, stepping through the threshold and heading to his desk. Her desk, it seemed, was the one behind his, once occupied by an officer who’d since left. He saw the coat on the back of the chair when they entered but hadn’t thought too much of it, but now he knew.

His eyes followed her as she passed him and sat down, and he just stood there at his desk. She was shorter than him, approximately five six. Her dyed white hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail and her eyes were a light brown, akin to a chestnut Connor thought. As a detective, she dressed away from an officer's uniform, opting with black jeans and canvas sneakers, and a brightly patterned short sleeved button up tucked in. Eye catching. The gun holster fit snuggly against her body, the black leather crossing on her back and the gun resting comfortably under her arm. She held herself well when she walked, head high and back straight.

Detective Johnson sat down at her desk and turned on the console, and she began reading through all the case files on androids and deviants, starting from most recent and working her way back.

“Connor, sit down,” Hank said, and he realised he was still stood, now just staring at her back, and he sat himself on his chair in one swift movement.

“I believe I should update Detective Johnson on our most recent cases.” He looked back over to her. Hank leaned around the android.

“Nah, looks like she’d doing fine on her own.”

Connor wasn’t convinced they should just leave her, but she did seem fine, so Connor turned to his console and began working. He could hear her fingers typing on the keyboard and he was curious what she could be writing. It wasn’t like she’d have anything to add to the current files. Hank reached around the desks at one point for the donuts, and without consulting the Lieutenant first, he offered one to Detective Johnson.

“No thank you,” she said without turning to respond. Hank’s initial offended scowl that Connor dare offer out one of his precious donuts turning into a smug smile, knowing he had the rest of the box to himself.

At some point close to lunch, they were called out to an assault on two androids, only one still around, the other reportedly having run off. They all swiftly stood, but Hank put a hand out to stop her. “Hey, I’m sure we can handle this without you kid. And besides, there won’t be any space in the back of my car.” Connor frowned. True, the back seat were a mess, a scattered history of their long worked cases with empty soft drink cups and burger boxes, paper bags and even one of Sumo’s dog blankets, but that stuff could be moved. A lot of it needed to be binned. It could be done quickly, Connor thought.

The detective stared up at Hank for a few moments before speaking. “I understand you don’t want to be working with me Lieutenant, however I have been assigned here and I intend to do my job. I’ll stay out of your way, and I’ll follow on my bike so don’t worry about the car.”

Hank looked ready to snarl out a response before his peripherals caught movement, Connor adjusting himself. This crime needed to be sorted, and the soon the better because that meant he could go to lunch sooner, so he allowed it, walking away and heading for the door. Connor waited for Johnson as she leaned under her desk to grab her helmet and shimmy her wool lined denim jacket over her shoulders and weave her arms into the sleeves. Hank wouldn’t leave him behind but he might leave her, so Connor waited to make sure sure that wouldn’t happen.

She smiled and they walked out together. Makayla’s eyes followed Connor as he walked to the Lieutenant’s car. It was old, she noted, significantly older than her and possibly older than the Lieutenant himself. She never knew cars quite like her father did, but she knew bits and piece of random knowledge, though not enough to know make and model. Swinging her leg, she situated herself comfortably on the bike and pulled the helmet on, flipping the visor down. She waited for the car to start moving. It pulled away and she followed comfortably behind, making sure not to lose them with Hank’s almost reckless driving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. I have ideas for future chapters but not necessarily how to get there sometimes...we'll see...


	3. It Is What It Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit later in the day than I intended, but I've been busy packing for university...I leave on Sunday, how daunting.
> 
> Some questions I'd like your opinion: what sort of casual clothes would Connor wear? Should I give Gavin some form of tiny redemption? (he's a bit of a jerk later on so yeah)
> 
> I want to know what you guys like and see if it fits with what I have in mind for later chapters.

There was a squad car when they arrived. Red and blue lit the street, reflecting off windows of homes and cars. The grey sky held a forecast for rain. The house they pulled up to was a two story building. Paint was peeling ever slightly near the roof, out of easy reach, but the porch was tidy with two wooden rocking chairs and a table out. Upstairs curtains were drawn but downstairs blinds were open, the light also on. There was an overflowing trash can round the side, knocked over and spilling, one bag split open and a milk carton poking out. It looked a nice home at first glance, but as she climbed off her bike, the other two already out of the car, she saw the victim sat on the porch steps.

He sat alone, a old fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders in comfort not warmth. His clothes were ripped, torn from a pulling motion Connor determined, and he was missing a shoe Connor quickly scanned the surrounding but he couldn’t see it. His hands were slick with blood though it was unclear if it was his or his friend who got away. A dent in his head spilt blood too, it dripping down his face. He and Hank approached the victim.

“Hi, my name is Connor. I’m from the Detroit Police Department, and this is my partner Lieutenant Anderson.” He looked over his shoulder and saw Detective Johnson peering round the side of the building. “And that’s Detective Johnson, she’s also working the case.” Upon hearing her name, she turned and smiled and waved them. The android gave a small, half hearted return smile. “May we ask you some questions?”

“Urm, yeah, yeah.”

“Connor, get the new kid to help you on this, I’ll scout the house.” Hank didn’t wait and walked past the victim on the porch and strode into the house. Makayla was close enough to hear clearly and walked over. She stood next to Connor.

“Can you tell us your name?”

“Brandon.”

“Do you live here?”

“Yeah, urm, me and my friend yeah.”

“And can you tell us what happened?”

“We were coming home, we’d urm, just been out to get some new clothes” – Connor noted the bags knocked over on the porch – “and we noticed that the light was on downstairs, and we knew we’d turned it off. I had the bags so Noah went-”

“Noah?” Johnson interrupted, both Connor and Brandon turning to her.

“Urm yeah, he’s my friend.” Could it be...the Noah she knew?

“Continue Brandon,” Connor said, and she put that aside for one moment. That was not why she was here.

“Yeah, and I had the bags so Noah went into the house to confront whoever it was. When I heard something break, I dropped the bags and ran in. Some guy was attacking Noah, shouting ‘fucking android’ and when he saw me, he went after me. I didn’t see how badly he was hurt. I ran upstairs and we fought, but he had a bat and he hit me. I fell to the floor. By the time I was back online, he was gone and so was Noah.”

“Can you provide a description of the attacker?” She asked, her voice soft and gentle, like speaking to a child.

“Yeah. He was six foot tall, dark blonde hair. Five o’clock shadow. Lean. His clothes were dirty, baggy jeans and a stained shirt, work boots. I didn’t get the best look.”

“That’s plenty to go on, thank you,” Makayla said. Another half hearted smile was sent her way. “Connor, why don’t you go help Lieutenant Anderson and I’ll stay with Brandon.”

“Good idea Detective.” And Conner left. Makayla moved to sit next to Brandon on the porch steps. She’d never heard an android stutter so much, to use so many fillers. Maybe it was a trait of deviancy, but that didn’t explain Connor.

“Can you tell me about Noah?” She asked.

“We met during the protest. He just sort of showed up. After everything, he needed somewhere to go and I said he could come with me, and we came here. My previous owners lived here, but they sold the house.”

“Where you good friends?”

“I haven’t known him long, but I’d say so. We looked out for each other. He liked to talk, and he’d hum around the house.”

“And what did he look like?”

“Similar height to me, an inch shorter. He was Latin American in design, short hair styled upwards, dark eyes, average build. He was a HY600.”

“Did he say anything about his life before the protest?”

“Not much, said he was a normal house service android for some woman. He said she let him join the protest without an argument.” So it was the Noah she knew. He was a rarer model which would help identify him for the case. She’d also like to know he was alright as he was also clearly injured during the attack. She didn’t say anything to Brandon.

“Thank you. We’ll be able to put an APB out for Noah and hopefully we’ll be able to find him, make sure he’s okay. Cyberlife has been notified of the incident and they’re sending people to take you back so they can fix you up, make sure there wasn’t too much damage.”

“My diagnostic program is still functioning and I can still be repaired, though my head took the most significant damage.”

Makayla hear footsteps behind her and turn craned her neck, seeing both Lieutenant Anderson and Connor coming out onto the porch. Standing, she let them passed. 

“We’ve surveyed the area, taken sampled of human blood we found upstairs and downstairs. Nothing else we can do,” Hank said. “We’re going back to the precinct.”

“I’m going to stay here, wait with Brandon until Cyberlife gets here.”

“Suit yourself.” And he walked off without a second thought. Connor remained there a little longer, staring at Detective Johnson. There was something about her he found...intriguing, but he wasn’t sure what it was. She caught him staring and she smiled, though he noticed a faint blushing to her cheeks.

“I’ll be alright Connor. I’ll see you back at the station.”

He nodded once, then turned to leave. He wasn’t worried about her; of course she’d be fine, why wouldn’t she be? But the reasurance settled something in him nonetheless. Getting into the car as Hank started the engine, they drove off. The car was quiet, no music playing. Connor watching the world outside the window pass by. Mostly houses and power lines and trash cans. It still looked like it would rain. The car still faintly smelled of alcohol, Connor thought; he wasn’t sure when the last time Hank had drank in his car. It was good to see Hank trying again, to change himself, but underneath he was still the same grizzly lieutenant with a slight drinking problem and high calorie intake. That reminded him, it was nearly lunch.

Apparently, Hank knew this too, and detoured from the station to the food truck for his daily dose of cholesterol. They parked across the street and stepped out, heading to the truck. Hank was handed his usual burger and soda and they stood under the umbrella.

“What do you think of Detective Johnson Lieutenant?” Connor asked after Hank managed just one bite.

“Another responsibility that I don’t want is what I think.”

“That does not relate to her ability to do her job.”

“That’s true.”

Connor found that Hank was being deceptively stubborn for no apparent reason. Maybe he was just hungry. So he decided to wait and let Hank eat first before asking more questions. He stood there and waited patiently. He allowed Hank to eat half of the burger before trying again.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Look son, I don’t know, I didn’t see her working. I was inside and she was outside.” He was just hungry. “What did you think?”

“She seemed curious and comforting towards the android, attentive at listening. She did interrupt at one point at the mention of a name, Noah.”

“Not unusual, maybe she didn’t hear him first time.” Hank was right. She would have no reason to question the name. It started to rain around them, and Connor wondered if Makayla was back at the precinct of if she was still waiting with Brandon, or if she was riding back now. She would be confused if they weren’t there when she arrived. Connor supposed it didn’t matter too much.

Hank finished his diabetes-in-a-meal combo and they set off, Hank running from cover to the car as quickly as he could, while Connor just walked, unfazed by the rain. Music played on the journey back to the station. When they arrived, Detective Johnson was sat as her desk eating from a bowl with a fork. Upon stepping closer and peering, Connor saw she was eating noodle with vegetables. She noticed his leering and smiled up at him, eyebrows raised and a stray noodle hanging out the side of her mouth. She quickly slurped up the noodle.

“We went for lunch,” Connor said, finding it only fair to explain their absence. The jacket on the back of her chair was slightly wet; she must’ve been caught in the rain, he deduced.

“Yeah, I assumed when I got back and you weren’t here.” He couldn’t tell if she was annoyed. “Oh and the APB’s out on Noah. Hopefully we’ll find something sooner rather than later.”

“And Brandon?” He perched himself on the end of his desk.

“Cyberlife arrived not too long after you left. I briefly explained the situation and they took him. I said I’d visit tomorrow to find out the full extent of the damage done, to determine whether the attacker will earn jail time.” Android rights were still tricky in the eyes of the law, but there was no doubt in Makayla’s mind that the human responsible for this deserved time.

“I’m never going to that building again if I can help it,” Hank interjected, clearly listening to the entire conversation over a donut.

“That’s fine, I’ll go alone. I know how to get there.”

“I should go with you.” Connor said.

“Not necessary.” She smiled as she forked in more noodles. She was right, Connor thought, it wasn’t necessary, but he still wanted to go. Instead of saying that, he only nodding, then exchanging his desk for his chair.

“Oh Johnson,” and she turned to Hank, “Write up the report for me.”

“Okay, no problem, but I never went in the house.”

“Connor will help.” The android mentioned smiled slightly, one side of his lips quirking upwards subtly.

“Okay.” Connor began to stand but she held out a hand to stop him. “Let me finish my lunch first, then we can get on it, okay?”

“Yes,” he replied. And he waited patiently while she ate, working on his terminal. It wasn’t long before she was done and called him over. He stood, but just stood there for a moment, thinking. Makayla looked at him, confused.

“You alright Connor?”

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking. May I sit?” He motioned the the corner of her desk.

“Sure.” She moved her bowl out of the way. It was probably the most convenient place for him to sit, and as he walked over, she adjusted the monitor so they could both view it with ease. He sat, back to the screen, so she rolled her chair back allowing him to swing his legs in towards her. Understanding, he did so, and sat.

Connor somehow felt more awkward than he would of if it was Lieutenant Anderson’s desk, but he didn’t know why. What was he nervous about? He pushed it to the back of his mind for later analysis, and sat waiting with his hands sandwiched between his knees.

They began working on the report. Makayla found Connor’s ability to recite everything single detail both impressive and agitating. On one hand, the fact that he could tell her everything that occured while he was inside the house was incredible, and very useful, but they were only writing the preliminary report, and that level of detail was far from necessary. So as he spoke, she filtered out the key facts from the dispensable details, typing them in. They covered the information about outside together, and their recollections were the same, but the android’s was considerably more fleshed out, for lack of a better term, while the human’s was abridged.

“That seems good,” she said, scanning through one final time.

“Yes,” Connor agreed.

She hit send, the report was done. “Glad that’s over with.”

“You don’t like writing reports?”

“I don’t hate them, but I feel...I don’t know, that I’m somehow being judged.”

“Judged on what?” 

“No idea. It’s one of those little irrational things.”

“If you know it’s irrational, then why does it still affect you?” His head stilled in curiosity. Humans were strange. If Detective Johnson knew that it was an irrelevant fear, then why allow herself be still be controlled by that fear? He didn’t experience anything of a similar degree.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly, not sure. It’s strange, but it just is what it is.” Another human saying he found strange. Of course it was what it was, it was that. A banana is a banana, not an apple. The statement was redundant. “Anything else I can help with?” He looked to her, and realised he was still on her desk, probably in the way.

“No, thank you detective.” He smoothly slide himself from the surface onto his feet and made his way back to his desk. She turned back to her monitor, adjusting it to how it once was, and pulling up the old case files again. Connor watched her from his chair. Supporting her head with a hand, she read through the files, a hand hovering over the keyboard, occasionally tapping to move from one page to the next. There was something about her...he still couldn’t place it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. Since I'm writing a couple chapters ahead, I know what's coming and I can tell you, it gets good! But I'm struggling with some dialogue so you know, bare with later on, but hopefully I have time to rewrite some stuff first. And I'm also a bit stumped on when to make it clear that they like each other, since most of the time it goes from day to day, but I'll work something out.
> 
> Let me know if you can help with that, and what you thought of the chapter!


	4. Unconvinced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is what I'm doing. A new chapter every Tuesday, unless I say otherwise in the other chapter comments, but I'll also give you some on Fridays. I won't update every Friday, or every other, just when I feel like it I guess. But yeah, another one today so enjoy!

_Tuesday 30th November  
~12:30_

“Hey, there’s a protest going on outside in front of one of the old android stores in the centre of town. Apparently they’ve been harrassing humans and androids alike, attacking one android,” an officer said, walking over, “Who wants it?”

“Want me to take it? I’ll deal with it quickly.” Johnson looked over to the lieutenant for an answer.

“Knock yourself out.” He barely looked up from his terminal.

“Should I accompany her?” Connor asked. Hank looked then, his partner looking ready to bounce from his chair.

“Sure, if she doesn’t mind.”

Connor looked at her so expectantly. She didn’t think android had a ‘puppy eyes’ mode but apparently this one did, and she sighed. “Yeah, come on then.” Also as if he was spring loaded, he shot from his chair to his feet, startling her enough to nearly knock her over as she reached for her helmet. “Oh, I urm, don’t have another helmet.”

“I’ll be alright.” Okay then. She pulled on her jacket and she was clever enough to bring her gloved becaused yesterday her fingers nearly froze. They walked out together and arrived at her bike together.

“Have you ever been on a motorbike before?” She asked as she swung a leg over.

“I have not.” He waited for her instructions and she told him to climb on as she pulled on her helmet. Comfortable.

“Well, hold on.” He froze for a moment. To what, he thought. Hank had made him watch some old films that he liked. There person on the back wrapped their arms around the driver. That made sense, so Conner wrapped his arms around Makayla, locking his fingers together easily in front of her. He felt the bikes engines rev underneath him, and then they were moving.

Watching the world was different. He could smell the world as they whizzed passed, the smell of gasoline as they passed a station, fried chicken when they passed a food chain restaurant. And he could hear it, voices and music and engines. The wind blew his hair and his jacket flapped.

He could hear the protestor before he could see them, formalistic chanting and cheers. When he saw them, it made him almost sad. They were stood outside the old store with signs on sticks, waving them around proudly and one man spoke through a megaphone, shouting about the negatives of change in much more vulgar words. Connor knew these sort of things would happen, they have been happening and he was sure they’d continue for quite some time, for change is rarely met so easily. Humans especially were creatures of habit, habits often hard to break so quickly.

They pulled up at the side of the road and Makayla pulled off her helmet. “Urm, Connor, you can get off.” Yes, he can, and he climbed off in one smooth movement. She followed his movements, kicked the stand down on the bike and hooking her helmet on one of the grips. They approached the protestors.

“Alright people, that’s enough,” she called out, alerting them to her presence and by extension Connor. “We need you all to leave the premise, or I will have to escort you off the property.”

“You can’t change the First Amendment!” One man hollered, receiving a collective of cheers, all in agreement. Clearly they were expecting the police at one point, and had prepared what they thought was a witty and smart response.

Connor recited, “The First Amendment prevents Congress from making any law respecting an establishment of religion, prohibiting the free exercise of religion, or abridging the freedom of speech, the freedom of the press, the right to peaceably assemble, or to petition for a governmental redress of grievances.”

“What my associate is saying is that this is not a peaceful assembly. We’ve reports of harassment, which mean we are within the law to dissolve this protest.”

“You have no prove,” said a different man, the one with the megaphone, clearing taking action as the instigator.

“We have reports, and if people are threatened, it is our duty to dissolve this protest.”

The man’s eyes flickered from Makayla to Connor. “And it has a duty as well? That piece of plastic doesn’t have a duty, it doesn’t feel. How can it have a duty when it doesn’t feel, doesn’t care, about what’s doing?” He got closer, and Makayla went to intervene, but Connor signalled for her to remain where she was.

“Sir, you have been misinformed. Though android emotions and human emotions differ, I do still feel, only-” Connor was punched across the face before he could finish, and when he looked back at the situation, the man was already being brought to the floor by Detective Johnson.

“I am arresting you for assaulting an officer of the law. You have the right to remain silent.” She turned to Connor, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good, call it in, get a squad car here.” The man was struggling on his stomach, his hands being cuffed behind him as Makayla kept her weight on him, preventing him from moving. “I suggest you all leave, or I will arrest more of you for not following my instructions.” Some of the protestors seemed more hesitant to move, more resistant, but slowly the crowd dispersed and the man was taken into custody.

“Jeez, thank goodness,” Makayla said once the squad car drove off. “You sure you’re alright Connor? That seemed like a proper punch.” He’d wiped away the small amount of blood that had dripped from his nose, his hands with smears of blue, there was even some on the end of his jacket sleeve.

“I’m fine, little thirium was lost so there is no damage done.”

“Still, and I can speak from experience, it’s not nice to be punched.”

“I cannot say it was a pleasant experience Detective.”

She chuckled a little at his response. Who knew androids could be sarcastic. “Well yeah. Hey, I was actually going to go for lunch, you want to join or would you prefer me to run you back to the station first?”

“It would seem rather a waste of fuel to drive me back to then drive out.”

That wasn’t exactly a yes or no answer, but it would do. “I suppose you’re right. Come on then, let’s get something to eat.” She walked back to the back, both getting on swiftly. Pulling on her helmet, she started the engine and drove. And it didn’t take them long to reach the destination she had in mind.

It was a small mexican food place. Owned by two brothers who just liked good food but had no flair for interior decorating, it was one of her favourite places to eat, and it wasn’t expensive. The inside was clean, a few painting hung on the otherwise bare grey walls, with tables and plastic chairs around. They were the only customers in there, which was often the case when Makayla ate there. One of the brothers was working behind the counter, and he recognised her when she entered.

“Hey Makayla, we haven’t seen you in a while, we were worried.”

“Don’t be Antonio, I’m fine. My usual thank you, with extra fries and guacamole please, I’m feeling particularly hunger today.”

“Of course, and for your friend?”

She turned to him. “You want anything Connor?”

“Androids don’t eat.”

“Nothing for him apparently,” said back to Antonio, who just smiled and relayed information to his brother in the kitchen. Makayla sat down at one of the tables and Connor sat opposite her.

“You eat here often?” He asked before she’d even had the opportunity to take her jacket off.

“I used to, it’s quite close to the south precinct, but when I got the news of the transfer, I was super busy sorting stuff out to move and just didn’t have time, for lunch in general some days so definitely didn’t have the time to drive out here.”

“You should not skip meals. It’s not good for your body and affects your metabolism.”

“I know that, but sometimes work just gets too hectic that you just don’t get time.”

“You should not skip meals.” He reiterated.

“Alright, Connor, I will, promise.” The blank stare she received made her chuckle. He was a strange fellow, but she was sure she’d get along with him. As ever, they were quick, and Alejandro brought out her food on a tray, setting it on the table. “Thanks,” and he smiled as he walked off. In front of her was a bursting burrito in a black plastic bowl so commonly used in quick easy food joints, partially wrapped red and white striped grease paper. A side of fries and small bowl of guacamole lay to the right and her soft drink to the left.

She tucked in, taking the largest bite she could physically muster out of the burrito, and she moaned with pleasure and the taste. Oh how she’d missed this. She may have made a mistake as she was struggling to chew through all the food she was attempting to consume.

“So,” she said, covering her mouth to prevent spillage and subjecting poor Connor to the chewy salivary mess, “Can you eat? I mean, you don’t have to, but can you, like, if you wanted to?”

“I am able to consume food by storing it is tanks. I can then empty the containers at a later date when more convenient.”

“But can you taste it?”

“No I cannot.”

“Then why include the ability to eat if it doesn’t taste of anything?”

“The feature was designed incase I was ever needed to go undercover and pose as a human.”

“Seems strange I guess. Not sure how well you’d make a convincing human.”

He looked almost thoughtful, his LED swirling yellow very briefly before it faded back to its standard sky blue. It was a pretty colour, she thought, like his eyes; they reminded her of hot chocolate on a cold, winter night that wraps around you like a blanket; engulfs you in its warmth and makes you feel at home...but she was getting distracted. So instead of pondering what exact colour and shade his eyes corresponded to on the Dulux colour chart, she took another bite of her burrito, enjoying the dense concentration of rise and beans.

“Why?” Connor asked.

“Hm?” Her mouth was fun of fries and guac.

“Why would I not make a convincing human?”

She swallowed. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, if it sounded that way.”

“I did not, however I’m curious as to your opinion.”

“Well…” Makayla wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t that there were particular things that made it clear he was an android, but there was just an overall feeling, a vibe from him, that made it apparent. “Okay, well, you’re too stiff. You sit with brilliant posture and humans have terrible posture. Slouching, arched backs, and when standing, sort of, feet crossing and uneven weight and stuff.”

Connor tried to relax, loosen his shoulders and slouch down into the chair, but he couldn't? Not well. He wasn’t really sure how to slouch in the sense that it wasn’t natural, he had to think about it. Makayla could tell and chuckled a little. He looked almost hurt.

“Sorry,” she said, “There’s nothing wrong with how you sit. It’s perfectly fine to not look human Connor.” He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

They continued to talk a little, but not much; Makayla was too busy stuffing her face with burrito and stray rice and fries, and when she didn’t speak, neither did, Connor not knowing what to say or not feeling the need to fill the silence. When she finished, she paid, thanking both Antonio and Alejandro for the wonderful food. Connor smiled politely as they left.

“Let’s get you back.”

They climbed on, helmet on too and arms around her waist, and they drove. Connor found it quite relaxing. When they arrived at the station, she didn't cut the engines but instructed him to dismount. Once he had, he asked:

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Cyberlife, remember? To see Brandon?”

“I could go with you.”

As he took a step forward, she thrust out her hand to stop him. “I’ll go on my own. Besides, I'm sure Hank misses you.” Before he was given much time to reply, she was already driving away. He stood there briefly, thinking, but turned back and went inside.

She was strange, he thought. Her tone was almost aggressive, argumentative, yet he couldn't understand why that would be the case. Had he done something to upset her? Human emotions fluctuate far too often, much more so than his own, though maybe when he was more accustomed to them, he would find himself become as dramatic as them. Who knew.

Emotions were still foreign to him. They were there, but often buried, poking though layers of programming. It took a lot to get him emotional, but he had been.

The station was empty like it had been the past two weeks. So many people had left, human and android alike. Desks were empty and terminals off. There was no chatter or quiet buzz in the air, just quiet, keyboard tapping and mouse clicking. Hank was sat at his desk when Connor returned.

“There you are, jeez, what took you so long?”

“Detective Johnson and I went for lunch after the protest was handled.” He replied as he sat.

“You went for lunch?”

“I didn’t eat anything, but yes.”

“Did you, urm, have a good time?”

“Yes. Detective Johnson is an easy person to talk to.”

“And where is she now?”

“She went to Cyberlife, to visit Brandon, the android from yesterday.”

“Well,” Hank continued as he stood, swinging on his jacket, “We've had a call about someone who matches the description of the missing Noah. Come on.” Connor had barely had a chance to sit before he was up and out the precinct again, not that he minded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, means the world to know people are enjoying what I'm writing. Or a kudos, still means a lot, so thank you. And thanks for just reading too.
> 
> Another chapter Tuesday, and it's good, I think, sets up from some other stuff I guess? You'll know what I mean when you read it I guess...


	5. Cyberlife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, whoop!
> 
> This isn't that chapter I thought it was, but still, I like this one :)
> 
> Also, irrelevant, but I'm a uni student now. Moving in on Sunday, start lectures on the 24th, and I'm super excited. I'm studying film, by the way, so yeah, happy and excited for that to start. Just in case you wanted to know.

_~ 15:00_

It was dingy, looked bad and smelled worse. The anonymous tip claimed they'd seen an android matching Noah’s description in the vicinity, so checking out an obvious hiding place was an obvious decision. Didn't mean Hank had to like it. It smelled worse than his fucking car after a weekend of alcohol, greasy kebabs and sweat, and that was really saying something.

Connor didn't seem to mind, lucky bastard, as they tropsed around the building. It had been an old car factory decades ago, but had seen been refurbished into apartments. But the apartments didn't sell and the building wasn't up to code so the place fell into ruin. Hank wondered how the roof hadn't completely caved in yet. Stairs were shaking and floors uneven. Ceiling leaked and doors fell off hinges when given the slightest pressure.

As they looked, Connor analysed the walls. There were scratch marks and spray paint and ink from ceiling to floor, all saying the same thing:

‘RA9’

They were old, clearly once a deviant safe haven, but they were still clear. Who, or what, was RA9? He wondered if he'd shot Chloe, Kamski’s android, would he have the answer now? Did Kamski even know? Connor had a lot of unanswered questions about him, but they could wait.

There were rudimentary beds set up, some stained with old blue blood some weeks, some months olds by the looks. Surprisingly, there were books stacked in piles across multiple rooms. Most were old and worn down, damaged by water and sunlight over the years, while others looked new, still with book covers and no corners folded awkwardly to mark pages.

The building didn't have electricity, Hank found when rapidly flipping the first half dozen light switches they saw, hoping that one would be different from the previous, but that never being the case.

There was a lot about this place that was unsettling, but there was no sign of Noah. If he’d been there, there would've been signs, there would've been blood. But there was nothing as fresh. Nothing looking disturbed in a while. Connor thought most had probably abandoned the place in hopes of nice homes.

“It appears to be empty,” Connor said, stepping out of an apartment and onto the balcony, looking out into the warehouse.

“Seems that way. Find anything interesting?” Hank’s voice came from a room down, and Connor followed it.

“Not particularly, only scrawling of RA9 on most walls.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that. Strange stuff.”

“But Noah is not here, nor there be anything to suggest his presence.”

“I have to agree. So let's get out of here.”

They left, but Connor couldn't knock this feeling that had slowly settled in him since they'd entered the building. He was unsure how to describe it clearly, like a feeling of inescapable dread, yet not knowing what for or when. Emotions were complicated when he knew what they were, let alone when he had no clue. But there was something about the building that unsettled him, the same way a cat was unsettled by a dog house.

“Should I inform Detective Johnson of this misinformation now?”

“No necessary. She’s probably busy anyway.”

 

_~ 15:30_

The Cyberlife Tower was daunting, towering up and above, standing alone and apart from the rest of the city. All white and pristine, both inside and out, and her black jeans and flannel made her stand out a mile. Makayla approached the woman at the reception desk.

“Hi, I'm Detective Johnson, I'm here to talk with Doctor Trinneer about a patient.”

“I’ll inform him if your arrival, so if you'll please wait, he'll be with you shortly.”

“Thank you.”

There were white couches in one area, positioned around a white coffee table with technology magazines and slick black coasters. A TV was mounted on the wall showing standard Cyberlife propaganda. Makayla sat down, swinging one leg over the other and waiting. She’d never been to Cyberlife before, but it how she expected it; formal and clean. And it was quiet, no sound on the TV, no people talking, just clicking on a keyboard behind the reception desk.

She wasn't forced to wait long. Her eyes one her phone, she looked up when she was called, standing.

“Detective Johnson?” 

“Yes. Doctor Trinneer?”

“Yes, pleasure.” The woman speaking was tall, elegant, though how much of the height came from her black stilettos she was unsure. Her maroon suit gave her a commanding aura, along with the low pony. Damn. They shook hands, “Come with me and you can see Brandon. He was in a state.”

They walked, Trinneer’s heels clicking against the tiles floors. The elevator took them to the twentieth sub level. The floor was akin to a hospital but for androids, mechanical surgery rooms and androids in wards, laying in beds. They eventually came to Brandon, propped up and reading.

He saw them approach.

“Doctor Trinneer, Detective Johnson.”

“Hi Brandon,” Makayla said, “how are you?”

“Better.” He looked better. His face was fixed, with a few support braces in place to help set everything. The bleeding on his arms had been stopped, his left arm in bandages. “Any news on Noah?”

“Unfortunately not yet, but hopefully soon. Is there anywhere you can think of he'd go?

“Urm, no, not that I can think of. We stuck together most of the time when we went out, but nowhere special. Anything on the attacker?”

“Also no, though a description has been put out, and hopefully someone will get back to us with information.”

He nodded, though it was clear that it was not the news he wanted. Doctor Trinneer beckoned her away from his bedside to talk. “He suffered quite a bit of damage. Multiple biocomponents had to be replaced, but he’ll be fine, just tired for a while.”

“What is as bad as it looked?”

“Actually worse. Most of the injuries he sustained were internal, multiple thirium leaks, he was lucky it wasn't as serious as it was.”

“How long are you keeping him here?”

“A few more days if everything is stable. If his condition changes, you’ll be notified.”

“Can we ask to know when he's been discharged?”

“Of course.” 

Makayla turned back to look at Brandon laying in bed. Even from a distance, his eyes looked empty. He wasn't someone who liked being alone it seemed, because when he was with people, even in a circumstance like this, he was happier. Poor Brandon, she thought, she hoped he'd be okay, and that they find Noah fast.

As Makayla started to walked back to his bedside, Doctor Trinneer called her back. “Actually Detective, there are a few other things I’d like to talk to you about in my office, if that's alright? And I’d like you to meet someone.”

“Of course.” She followed behind Trinneer down the corridor.

 

_~ 17:00_

Finally, back at Central Station. The trip to Cyberlife had taken longer than she expected and more than she had bargained for. At least Brandon was alright now, but would he stay that way? Doctor Trinneer said she’d keep her updated if his condition changed, when he was released, and information to be able to contact him. Makayla was grateful.

When she stepped back into the station, it was the same as it had been when she left hours ago. Quiet. She didn’t like it.

She walked to her desk and sat down in a huff, thankful to be back in a familiar chair, even if she’d only been in the station for two days. Connor stopped typing when she’d sat down, abrely catching her breath before he began speaking.

“How was Cyberlife? How is Brandon?”

She spun the chair to face him, and he did the same to face her. His back was straight, legs close together and hands loosely on his knees, brilliant posture compared to her lazy slouching, arms thrown over the arm rests of the chair, her legs stretched out.

“Brandon’s fine. Internal bleeding and all that but he’s fixed, knew biocomponents all that, and Cyberlife aren’t charging anything either.”

“Why?”

“Well, one, they have no one to charge, since it’s not like Brandon has a job or anything, and two because he’s now covered under the government’s free healthcare.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah, and Cyberlife was fine, nothing really exciting.”

“You were longer than I expected?”

“Waiting for me Connor?” he smiled. His brows furrowed, confused, and she chuckled. When he opened his mouth to speak she cut him off. “I was joking.” And his mouth closed, his question seemingly answered before he had the chance to ask. “Anyway, I miss anything while I was gone?” She straightened herself out in her chair, sitting upright.

“We had an anonymous tip regarding the whereabout of the android Noah.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Unfortunately not.” Makayla wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She was worried he was badly injured, too injured to possibly survive, but if he wasn’t found he wasn’t dead. There was hope he was alive, so she’d focus on that.

“Okay, well, if you get anything else, I’ll come with. If I’m not here, I want an immediate update, I want to know as soon as you do.”

“That isn’t necessary detective.”

“I know, but that’s what I want.”

“But-”

“Just do it!”

Connor rolled back in his chair, his legs kicking out slightly, startled at her volume and tone, loud and aggressive, sudden. Had he done something? What had he missed? Her eyes were set on his. His LED spun yellow. And Makayla stood. “I’m going home.” She was quieter now, sounding tired, and she started to walk away. Delayed, he followed her, stopping her just before she left the station.

“But detective-”

“I’m going home Connor, leave it at that.” She was definitely tired, he thought. He followed her gaze down, his hand wrapped around her wrist and he hadn’t even noticed. Like on fire, he pulled his hand away, jerking it back. When did he do that? He looked down at his palm as if that would answer something, but it didn’t. And when he looked back up she had already left. There was a faint revving engine getting quieter with growing miles.

When he returned to his desk, Hank threw across strange looks.

“Everything alright son?”

“Yes lieutenant.” Though he wasn’t sure. Something was going on with him and with her, and he was none the wiser with either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So why is she upset? What happened?? Why did Connor hold on to stop her from leaving??? 
> 
> You will find the out the answer to some next chapter, so yeah. Please be patient, like, it's slow burn but it has to be to not make is seem too rushed since they haven't know each other long, but it'll be super cute so bare with please.


	6. Mud, Dust and Empty Gas Tanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some good stuff in this one, I guess. We get to meet three characters that will continue to pop-up, two you might already know from the game, so yeah, do enjoy!

_Thursday 2nd December  
~ 10:00_

Connor barely saw Detective Johnson yesterday. She went home early on Tuesday, something clearly wrong, then most of Wednesday she avoided everybody and anybody, including him. When a small disturbance call came in, she opted for it without hesitation, not unusual for her it seemed, but when he asked if she would like to be accompanied, she flat out told him no. She went out for lunch on her own too, not that he expected to be invited out, but she simply stood and left without explanation.

He had clearly said something that had upset her, but he wasn’t sure what it was nor the true significance of whatever he said had. He said that it wasn’t necessary to tell her, she said she wanted to know anyway. He tried to weigh in further, but she stopped him, shouting. What was it he’d said to upset her? He was lost.

Then there was what happened when she was leaving. He reached out to her and he hadn’t even noticed. Why? When he looked around a room, or moved, or spoke, he knew why, but not then. He felt her pulse under his fingertips. It was faster than the average for someone her age, height and weight. He’d even felt his thirium regulator pump a little faster, though he wasn’t sure why because he was working perfectly well. He wanted to figure out.

There was something different about her, and he couldn’t place it.

 

_~10:00_

Thank God for the break room and thank God for the coffee maker. She’d overslept like the idiot she was and hadn’t had time to grab some on the way out. And she had to walk to work in the cold because it had snowed and she wouldn’t dare risk her bike on the roads. At least she fed the cat.

There were two people in the break room when she wandered in. Lieutenant Anderson and Connor were already in for once, though it looked like they’d just arrived. They usually just tended to appear when the Lieutenant decided to. The people in the room she was aware of, but hadn’t spoken to. There was Officer Keating, kind young woman but kept to herself. She did a lot of patrol work.

And the other was Detective Reed. Now him, she knew more about, but only through word of mouth, specifically the mouth of Lieutenant Anderson. Apparently, Gavin Reed walked around with a stick up his ass, thinking all high and mighty of himself, and not always the nicest guy. Even Connor warned her. He was a gruff looking guy, rough and uneven stubble, with dark jeans and jacket and t-shirt. He was talking when Makayla walked in. She headed straight to the coffee machine.

“So, you’re the new detective on the block?” Her back was turned but of course it was Reed. Even if Keating was a guy, that voice so perfectly matched that face.

“Yeah, that's me.”

“How you find it?”

When she turned around, cup in her hand, he’d moved closer. There was something vaguely unsettling about his smile. “Urm, yeah, fine. Had a couple things but no murders or anything to serious, which is good.”

“You find it strange, androids investigating androids?”

“Not really. Humans investigate humans so it makes sense really.” 

He huffed. “Really? So how is Robocop?”

“Connor? He’s fine, good detective.”

“It’s not a detective.”

“Fine then, he’s a good cop.” The coffee was cheap but good enough since she didn’t have to pay for it. And it was warm, unlike December in Detroit; she should take a holiday. Holiday to get away from the weather and this asshole. Robocop wasn’t even correct, in any sense. Had he never seen the fucking film?

“You even call it a him.”

“That’s because Connor is a he. What’s your problem with him anyway?” Makayla was over the conversation, and really over him.

“Why don’t you have a problem with working with Pinocchio?”

“Because unlike you, I don’t discriminate based on whether your blood is red or blue.” There was clear aggression in her voice, and she hoped he heard that. Pushing herself off the counter, she left the room. She heard Gavin mumbling under his breath as her back was turned, but she couldn’t care.

By the time she got to her desk, her coffee was gone but she was too lazy to walk back and get more. She saw Connor look up as she passed, and she still felt bad at snapping the other day. She’d barely spoken to him yesterday. Maybe she should explain.

“Hey, urm Connor?” He spun around on his chair to face her..

“Yes detective?”

“I’m sorry about snapping at you the other day, I just...I don’t know, sorry.”

No sound came out when he opened his mouth to speak, not at first. He looked almost hesitant before he spoke. “Would you care to talk about it?” Something in his voice sounded a little different.

“Urm, I don’t know...actually maybe, but mind if we do it outside?”

“Of course.”

He stood so swiftly and she followed, pulling her coat on before following him out. It had started snowing again, she noticed when they got outside. They kept shelter under the overhang covering the entrance into the station, standing to the side to prevent being an obstruction. She buttoned up the coat, and pulled the fluffy collar up around her neck before she dug her hands into her pockets. It was cold, but she would prefer being outside to talk about it than in there.

“But yeah,” she began, “I’m sorry about what happened, I was out of line.”

“You’re apology is accepted detective, but something is clearly bothering you.”

“I urm, met somebody at Cyberlife yesterday, and it was just...a bit weird I guess.” It was strange to even think about, “I met you.”

“Me?”

“A different you, an upgrade as Doctor Trinneer called him. RK900.”

“What was he like?” Connor wasn’t even aware of an upgrade. It must’ve been the plan if he didn’t make it back, or he did and he just wasn’t useful to them anymore. At a point in time, he wouldn’t of cared if he was to be replaced. He cared now.

“He sounded like you, but not at the same time. He had different clothes. And he was taller and had these weirdly unsettling blue eyes. He still seemed so machine like, clearly not human.”

“You made a recent comment to me that I was not convincingly human.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” She chuckled a little but he could tell it was strained. “It was a bit...I don’t know. It reminded me that you are a machine really, I guess, that you were just one of many RK800 models that were ready to go if the previous one got damaged or destroyed. It was just weird seeing your face, hearing your voice, but knowing it wasn’t you, just this...like, shell with someone else inside.”

Connor thought he understood, but he’d seen his face in other models before. He had to deal with one in close encounters during the revolution. It was...a unique experience he could admit, but that was the best he could describe it. He just nodded.

“And, urm, there’s something else I should tell you, though I’m not sure it really matters.” He looked to her and waited for her to continue. She was very cold though. “The android we’re looking for, Noah, I think I know him.”

“You know him?”

“Well, before the revolution, I, like most people, had an android. His name was Noah and he was a HY600.”

“It is likely that the android we’re looking for is the one you know.”

“Yeah, exactly, and knowing that is the problem.”

“Why?”

“Knowing that we’re looking for someone that I know, and that we could find him dead, or damaged beyond repair is just...I don’t know, not a nice thought. And I want to be there if I can, or at least keep updated.”

Connor understood now. He wouldn’t want to have to find someone he knew dead, but he also would want to know. He imagined not knowing would be just as painful. He reached out, a hand on her arm. He knew he was doing it this time, but he did without thinking, just feeling. “We will find him Makayla. And I promise to keep you updated.” When she looked up meet his eyes, she saw a small and reassuring smile grace his lips, and she reciprocated.

“Thank you Connor, means a lot.”

His hand dropped but his smile remained. “You’re cold, we should go back inside.”

“How right you are.” They shuffled back inside, the instant heat hitting her like a warm blanket. It was good to be back inside. But neither had time to sit down.

“We got a call,” Hank said, “Another hit on the APB.” He was already pulling on his jacket, then he looked at Makayla. “I didn’t see your bike out front. You can ride with us, Connor cleared off the back seats for you.” She looked to said android, who quickly followed after Hank, not meeting her gaze. How kind he was. She followed after them, hoping for good news.

 

_~ 11:00_

Downtown Detroit could’ve been a ghost town. There were a few people out, but not like it used to be. They parked at the lot as the side of the convenience store. Even the self driving cars were off the streets. She wasn’t sure if it was because there was no one left to take places or people didn’t trust them; she hadn’t seen people so tech wary since...ever, but her dad always talked about times when phones were new and the time he bought his first car. People now didn’t seem to trust those without red blood as easily as they did before.

There was faint music coming from somewhere, though the source was unclear. The tip came from an anonymous source as they so often are, saying they’d seen an android who looked damaged wandering around. They said he looked suspicious, looking around the abandoned plot of land close by. There was old house, looked like it had been standing vacant for a decade or more, all the paint peels and the wood rotting. Makayla pulled herself close the the metal fence, fingers wrapped around the wire. There were no clear signs of disturbance. She heard Connor next to her. “It appears to be abandoned.”

“Doesn’t mean it is.” Walking around the fence perimeter, she saw the unbroken chain on the door and fence. No one got in this way.

“Through here,” Hank called, using his wait to push open a gate to a connected area. They all pushed through the stiff gate, the post dragging in the mud. There was an abandoned car, the hood up and crumpled, and a front window was smashed. Upon closer inspection, it was clearly smashed from the outside.

“Lieutenant, Detective, over here.” Connor was crouched on the ground, holding up fence, clearly cut with wire cutters, but where were they now? “There appears to be traces of fresh blue blood on the ends of the fence.”

“Maybe Noah thought it’d be a good place to hold out.” She said.

“Likely. We should investigate.”

“No way I’m fitting though there,” Hank commented.

“Detective Johnson and I will investigate.” Connor gripped the end of the wire and lifted it up, and Makayla was able to crouch under easily; the fence was cut high, probably made it easier for him to crawl through injured. He followed her. The surrounding ground was as run down as the house itself, with mud, dead grass strands and chunks of ice. The weeds that were somehow still alive were withered and brow. There were barrels and wooden planks strewn about as well. Vines climbed the exposed brick like they were trying to escape, but never quite growing tall enough. She stepped up onto the wooden porch and the floorboards creaked under her weight.

“Do you think he might be here?”

“I think it is possible.” Connor always gave her the right answer, never saying yes or no in uncertain situations, but still giving her hope.

As they were walking around, they heard objects falling from inside. They found a door and pushed it, it opening with ease. Makayla was smart and drew her gun to be sure.

“Hello?” She called out. Something else fell, sounding from a room of what would be the living room. The insides were as dilapidated at the outside, with peeling wallpaper and the smell of damp in the air. On the walls, there was graffiti that she couldn’t read, and on the floor there were old bits of paper, ripped from books and the words slowly fading. There was a table in the middle and a few plastic chairs strewn about randomly, and an old arcade console against a wall.

They stepped further in, cautious of their surrounding as they came closer to what was most likely a kitchen. She rounded the corner ahead of him, and inside was an android, but it wasn’t Noah.

The man inside was wrapped in fabric, black and ripped from something bigger, with rough torn edges clearly visible. Underneath, his clothes were green and brown and orange; he was a gardener then, but they were dirty with more than just soil, and there were rips there too. His hair was matted in places too, the dust possibly adding to the already dirty blond hair. But what was most striking was the damage he suffered.

There were horrible gashes down his face, dried blue blood closing the wounds but it was clear the damage was severe. An eye had turned black and blue; he was partially blind. The scaring covered at least half of his face, marks in his tissue pulling his lip upwards. His arms were damaged too, one hand unable to retain it’s skin, white and grey plastic showing through, making the blue even more prominent. Up his arms there were marking in blue, and she found it hard to tell if they were self inflicted or not. And there were burns too, creeping up like those vines on the house. There was a knife in his hand, the blade pointing in direction when she entered the room.

“Detroit Police Department, drop your weapon.” Surprisingly to her, he complied. “Keep your hands where I can see them.” And he held them out, palm in her directions. “What’s your name?”

“Ralph...Ralph lives here, this place is home to Ralph.”

“Are you alone here Ralph?”

“People to don’t come to Ralph, they don’t trust him and he doesn’t trust them. They want to hurt him.”

“No one here wants hurt you Ralph. My name is Makayla and this is Connor.” He was in her peripherals, and he bowed his head slightly. “We don’t want to hurt you, but have you seen anyone else recently, another android?”

“People hurt Ralph so he doesn’t let them in. They only want to hurt Ralph.”

“Ralph, we won’t hurt you.” She slowly showed the side of her gun, holding out her empty palm to him, before sliding it back in the holster. She could see Connor’s concerned looks, a ring of yellow before returning to blue. “But we need to know. We think someone called Noah came through here. I know him, and I haven’t seen him in a while but he might be hurt, and we think he might be here. Is he?”

Ralph looked to the ground. His hands slowly coming together in front of him; a nervous habit, but he didn’t answer. “Please talk to me Ralph.” He still didn’t seem convinced, so she tried something else, taking a step closer. “What happened to you?”

He still seemed hesitant, but he spoke. “They took Ralph and hurt him, burned him and cut him, made him bleed. They weren’t nice people, and they left Ralph to die but...but he didn’t. He hid here and he survived, but Ralph doesn’t trust easy.”

“We can help you. We can call Cyberlife and they can see if they can help, fix your arms, maybe your face, but they can’t do that if you’re here.” Clearly there were more than physical damage. She didn’t know androids could suffer mental health afflictions, but it made sense really, just damaged programming. Hopefully, with time, something could be done for him in that regard too.

“Ralph knows Noah. Noah is upstairs, badly injured but alive, well.”

Her heart jumped. Could it be him? After all this it might not even be him. “Connor, call Cyberlife, alert them to the situation, and stay here while I go upstairs and check. Ralph, you’re safe with Connor, I trust him.” He didn’t respond, but didn’t protest. As she walked out, she ran a hand down Connor’s arm, from his elbow to his wrist, and she wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure him or herself.

The stairs creaked like the rest of the wood in the building, and she called out. “Noah? Noah it’s me, Makayla, are you up here?” She heard ruffling from the far bedroom, and when she enters, she saw a drifting Noah sprawled out across the mattress, blood everywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayeee, so now we have Ralph and Gavin, and Noah, but I think we knew he'd be around. I really wanted to include Ralph because I loved the character but you didn't get enough of him in the game, in my opinion. And Gavin is an ass, we all know that, but I'd like him and Makayla to eventually become friends, but who knows if it will play out that way...I don't know, aha.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update!


	7. Most People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. I like this one, so I hope you do too!
> 
> (I also forgot to name the last chapter oops)

Connor waited downstairs, alerting Cyberlife, and for good measure alerting Hank outside. He was unsure of Ralph, whether he was someone who could be trusted. Detective Johnson put away her gun in the face of someone who was clearly a threat to them and to himself, yet she trusted him enough to put away her gun. Why? How did she know that was the right decision?

As he waited, he scanned the walls. ‘RA9’ again, written in black and scratched into the concrete and tile, along with dripping text of ‘I’M ALIVE’. How long had all this taken him? Had he done it all himself? How long had he been here?

The floor was littered with paper cups and other related garbage, probably from human squatters. The cooker was turned over on its side. There were gas canisters by the fridge, with peeling paint; they were probably were empty.

Ralph stood there, his hands fiddling and his eyes on the ground. “Do you know her well?” He sounded quiet, his voice softer compared to the previous panicked and rasp that his words carried.

He was talking about Detective Johnson. “I have only know her a few days.”

“And yet she trusts you. Ralph trusts her too. Why?”

“She cares about people, and her job. When she speaks, she means what she says.”

“She is a good person.”

Connor contemplated that. There are good and bad people in the world, but so often their actions stray from who they are; good people do bad things and bad people do good things. It was hard to truly judge someone after such a short period of time. Things were never as simple as they first appeared, yet his response was, and he believe what he said. “Yes, she is.”

“Connor!” Her voice came from upstairs. It fluctuated in tone, wavering, clearly a response to the distress he could hear from her. He ran to her. She was hanging over the banister, calling out to him. “I found him but he’s really badly injured. I need your help getting him down the stairs.”

He took the steps by two, bounding effortlessly. As soon as she saw him move, she turned and bolded back. When he reached the landing, she was gone, but she called out and he followed the voice.

Light poured through the rips in the thin, cream fabric curtains, giving the room a warm glow. It was in startling contrast to the pool of blue blood around the young man on the bed, clearly in agony as he writhed around. There blood on his face, crusted over to stop the bleeding, and there was blood down his neck. His clothes were stained, not only blue but red, human blood, and the smearing of the two; shifting shades of purple across his closed and exposed skin. Though what drew his attention most, and what he was sure was her primary concern, was the lack of right arm attached to his body. It appeared to have been abruptly and bluntly removed from just about the elbow, a bloody forearm still remaining, the main source of the blood that he lay in.

“We need to get him downstairs. Help me get him up, please.”

He shifted himself to Noah’s bedside, pulling him up gently with his left arms swung across Connor’s shoulders, supporting him while she was able to get under his right, the remaining stump not even reaching the width of her shoulders. Noah’s feet dragged against the floor as the navigated from the bedroom to the stairs. It was difficult to get a three wide group carefully down old and water damaged stairs, but somehow they successfully managed to maneuver without causing him excess pain.

They managed to set him down on a chair. “Noah, are you alright?”

“Makayla…” His voice was stained and dry. Connor could see the relief in both of their faces as she knelt down closer to his eyes level. She smiled so purely at Noah, her eyes tearing up.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me, thank God you’re alright. How do you feel?”

“Honestly, shit.” A choked and drowning chuckle came from him.

“Hey, relax. Cyberlife is on route. Brandon is there.”

“He’s alright?”

“He’s good yeah, his last day actually, though I think they’ll have a hard time dragging him away from you.”

“I’m glad he’s safe. I...I left him.”

“You are allowed to protect yourself as well, you know that.”

He nodded weakly, his eyes fluttering closed often. She turned to Connor, “Can you make sure there is an easy way that Cyberlife can access the building for Noah and Ralph.”

Connor nodded and left. Makayla heard a voice behind her. “You mean to help Ralph, just like you said.” Ralph had emerged from the kitchen with the energy of nervous child, someone almost appearing as one with the way he held himself.

“Yes. You’ll go to Cyberlife and they’ll do their very best to help you.”

“Ralph thanks you. He wants to help, how can he help?”

She said there wasn’t much he could do, that any of them could do until Cyberlife arrived, but she asked him to tell her when Noah arrived, how he arrived and what had happened since. Noah arrived on the Monday, the same day as the attack, and Ralph was sceptical to help, but could tell he was so damaged he didn’t pose a threat, so helped him into the house, leading him to the bed upstairs. Apparently not much had happened. Noah had kept passing in and out of consciousness and Ralph had struggled to know what to do and how to help.

“You did good Ralph. You helped keep him alive, that’s important.” A smile formed on his lips, still childlike and nervous, but genuinely appreciative of the compliment.

The wait for Cyberlife was excruciating for everyone. When they had, they were alerted by Connor bursting in through the door with so much force it could’ve knocked the fragile wood from the hinged. “They’re here,” and he proceeded to help Makayla again support Noah and get him out of the building. They were met halfway by staff in white, gently but quickly and efficiently prying Noah off of them and into their more capable hands. Makayla made sure Ralph stayed with them and was looked after too; he seemed reluctant again to trust, but she assured him they would help, and he conceded. She asked if she could ride, but they didn’t have the room and she nodded, understanding but disappointed.

“We can follow them,” Connor said from behind her, startling her almost. “Lieutenant Anderson is willing to do so.” She didn’t want to drag them to Cyberlife, that had no need to be there, no personal attachment, and they could be waiting for hours before they knew anything. But despite that, she agreed, so grateful that they were both willing. 

Scrambling through the now open fence gate, they kept a quick pace to the car, and they followed close behind the Cyberlife vehicle. Her mind was distant, the sudden realisation that Noah could still die hitting her hard and twisting itself around her. She tried to focus on other things, the buildings passing by, the sparse falling snowflakes, the faint music that had began playing when the engine turned on, but nothing helped distract her.

They arrived, and she followed the staff in without waiting for permission until she was stopped.

“You can’t go beyond this point, but you can wait. It might be some time before we have news for you.

“That’s fine, thank you.” The woman turned and left her, trailing behind the stretched Noah was strapped to and Ralph who walked quietly behind them with staff surrounding them. She turned back, her pace dawdling, random and wonky steps being placed against the tile. Cyberlife had become the equivalent to a hospital for androids, and she was thankful they were willing for that responsibility.

Makayla dragged a hand down her face, suddenly feeling the exhaustion from movement and emotional strain set in, feeling set to keel over in the middle of the corridor. Her eyes fluttered close as she felt her legs give way, but secure arms wrapped around her, keeping upright and supported. When she was able to focus, she found Connor looking down at her, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Detective, are you alright?”

“Urm, yeah, just tired.”

“You seem more than tired.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not convinced.” She chuckled a little at his response. Then realising he was still holding her, she pushed herself back, wanting to give him space, but she wobbled again, and his hands went to her waist, holding her steady as she latched to his arms unexpectedly. “You need rest.” He helped her over to the closest chair against a wall and as she sat, she melted into the seat. Connor crouched in front of her. “Do you need water?” 

She found herself nodding without thinking, and he left, returning seconds later with a plastic cup half filled, handing it to her. Smiling was the best way to thank him, and he seemed to understand as he sat in the chair next to her. The water was nice, she needed if even when she hadn’t realised she did.

Finishing the cup, she set it on the small table to her right, Connor to her left. Her head fell back against the wall and her arms were comfortable against the armrests. Her eyes felt heavy and naturally closed, and her breaths became deeper. Though the day’s physical activity hadn’t exceeded the normal expected amount, the emotion toll was taken, and she was tired, ready for the day, the week, to be over.

“Lieutenant Anderson left in the car,” Connor said. “He knew that it could a be a long wait, so went for food with the intentions of returning with such after going to the station and writing his part of the preliminary report.” She nodded without opening her eyes. “Is there anything I can to for you detective?”

“I don’t think so.” Silence was brief between them before she spoke again. “Thank you Connor.”

“For what?”

“For everything you’ve done today. It really means a lot to have you here with me now, and the help with Noah and Ralph, and this morning, being so understanding of my shitty attitude on Tuesday; it means a lot.”

He pondered her words. Humans had a habit of thanking action that didn’t need thanking, and he believed that was what she was doing. He didn’t need to be thanked, but he smiled a little regardless. Maybe it was better that she couldn’t see that smile. But his mind wandered a little in the quiet that was beginning to settle between them. He thought of how he could help her. “I believe humans find comfort in physical contact.”

“That’s true for most people.”

Asking if she fell into the category of ‘most people’ would’ve been the sensible, thought out option, but he didn’t do that. Instead, reaching out for her hand with his, and wrapping his hand over hers. She so smoothly turned her hand up, their palms together, and lacing their fingers, not saying a word or opening her eyes. He felt her squeeze, and he held on, not wanting to let go, for her sake...and for some other reason, some other feeling he couldn’t place, just nuzzling in the back of his mind. Another time.


	8. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update, enjoy!
> 
> I like this chapter, quite chill and soft, so no stressing people.

_~ 13:00_

He gently nudge her shoulder, careful to wake her. Her eyes fluttered open, falling first to him with a gentle smile. He returned before nodding in the direction of the incoming doctor in a lab coat, and she seemingly understood as she followed his eyeline and stood abruptly when she saw the doctor, someone she clearly recognised.

“Doctor Trinneer,” she said when they were closer, a few feet away from each other. “How is he?”

“He’s stable, powered down for the time being to help him recover. He’d lost a lot of thirium 310 which had to be replaced, and we’ve replaced the broken arm, giving him a completely new one. There was internal damage as expected with trauma of this nature, however it could’ve been significantly worse. We had all necessary parts needed, and he’ll be fine with time and rest.”

He could see the relief wash over her. And he could feel it, for their hands were still linked together. She’d forgotten that fact clearly, not noticing when she dragged him from the chair after her. Connor stood behind her with enough distance, but when he tried to pull his hand away, she squeezed, holding on, not daring let go. His eyes fell to her from Doctor Trinneer, but she remained looked at the doctor.

“And Ralph?”

“Unfortunately there is nothing we could do in regards to his face, the damage was too extensive. We’re even unable to remove and fix the blind eye as it’s too heavy affected by the surrounding injuries. In regards to his arms, we’re able to replace them, however he’s causing difficulties.”

“Difficulties?”

“He doesn’t want to cooperate, outright refusing the replacements, but there’s more. Some of the injures across his arms, like the burning and the large gash on his upper left occured at the same time from an attacker. However there are a significant number of smaller wounds running up both arms which are clearly self inflicted, some as recent a few days and some as old as months, but there could’ve been more further back.”

Connor could tell it was hard for her to hear; she stumbled backwards into his chest and he used his free hand to brace her, resting delicately on the back side of her hip, his other hand still entwined with hers. “Can I see him?”

Trinneer nodded. “Follow me,” and they did, Connor trailing behind as it seemed she didn’t want to let go quite yet, but he didn’t mind. They came to a door, white like the rest of the building. He’s in there, but be careful, he can be volatile.” 

“I’ll be alright, thank you.” Trinneer walked off down the hallway, her heels clicking away against the tile. Makayla took a deep breath in before turning to Connor. “It’s probably best I go in on my own, might be easier for him.”

“Of course. I’ll wait for you in the other hallway, where we were before.”

“Thanks Connor.” She squeezed his hand lightly one final time before letting go and entering the room, number 116 on the door. His hand felt cold without her wrapped around it, and he stared down at his palm briefly, before turning and walked back.

Hank was still sat there though he’d stopped eating his burger, setting it and it’s cardboard box on the empty chair next to him. He’d arrived some time after he’d left with two burgers and two fries and two soft drinks for him and Detective Johnson, though Connor recommended not to wake her as he’d seen how exhausted she was and in true need of rest. Hank looked to be waiting for his return, and he sat back down in the chair he had been, opposite and to the side of Hank.

“She alright?”

“Yes lieutenant, I believe so, though it’s clear the events of the day have impacted her.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock, it would affect anybody. It’s not just another case for her, she’s got feelings invested.” He nodded, it clearly being true. Hank picked up his burger again and began eating, talking through a mouth of food. “You two seemed to be getting along well.”

“I believe we do, yes.”

“What do you think of her after today?”

“Should my opinion of her have changed since last we spoke?”

“No, not exactly, just wondering.”

“I still believe her to be curious and comforting. She takes pride in not just the job, but with the people she can help...while we were inside the abandoned house, she took care in talking to Ralph, and though it was clear he was dangerous, she put her gun away. Why did she do that lieutenant?”

“You’ll have to ask her yourself.”

“She could’ve been seriously injured if he had decided to attack her and she wasn’t prepared, and it was clear that he armed and dangerous.”

“She’s hopeful.”

“She’s reckless.”

“Maybe so, but I still think you should ask her. Take her out for a casual lunch, talk to her.”

“Perhaps I shall.” A look creeped its way onto Hank’s face that Connor had never seen before, and he wasn’t fully sure what it was; his eyebrows were brought up in the middle, one higher than the other, his forehead creases and wrinkles becoming more prominent. Connor would’ve said it was smug, but there was a genuine smile across his face, and Connor had learnt to recognise the warmth in his eyes. Connor was confused but let it slide, having a few other things nagging in the back of his mind. Maybe he had time now to think a few things through.

Detective Makayla Johnson was someone who caught his interest, but he wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t known her long, but that didn’t explain the intrigue he felt. She didn’t seem particularly...ordinary. Height was above the national average, but her weight matched accordingly. She was smart, above average, but not extremely; he’d met smarter. From talking earlier that day, it seemed she wasn’t an overly optimistic person, nor pessimistic. She was confident in herself but not self centred or pushy.

Though she seemed in a way, for lack of a better word, average, Connor found himself looking at her differently to how he looked at anybody else, and that was what was causing issues. He didn’t know why. But when he looked at her, he felt comforted, like it was...okay, for him to anything he wanted to be, for him to try and be something different, though he wasn’t sure what that difference would be. There was something that he just couldn’t place about her, but he knew he found himself drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain.

# # # # # #

When she walked in, Ralph was in white clothes, sat in the middle of a white bed in the middle of a white room. He fiddled with his hands in his lap, but looked up when he heard the door open, and smiled slightly when he saw her.

“Ralph wondered whether he’d see you again. He’s glad he did.”

“How are you Ralph?”

“Uncomfortable, he doesn’t know this place, doesn’t like this place.”

“They’re here to help you, but someone told me you wouldn’t let them.”

“They want to take Ralph’s arms, no, they belong to him.”

“But they’re damaged, and the people here will give you new ones, brand new ones.”

He was shaking his head. “People don’t want to help Ralph, only hurt Ralph.”

“I want to help you.” She angled her head down when she spoke, managing to look into his downward cast gaze, and he looked back. “Can you tell me about the marks on your arms?” When she reached out to touch him, he first flinched back. They held eye contact again, and she tried to show her sincerity. Reaching out again, he let her this time, and she hoped he understood that she wouldn’t hurt him. She held his arms, one hand supporting the back of his arm, while the other gently traced the older marks still visible. “Can you tell me about these?”

His free hand began ghosting across the lines too, matching the direction her hand went. “Ralph was lost, confused, he wasn’t in control anymore, he needed control. It was the only way to be in control. Ralph liked the hurt because he knew he did it, that he had the control of the pain.”

“Why was it the only way?”

“He was alone, no one to talk to but himself, Ralph doesn’t trust people. Ralph only sometimes trusts himself, he gets too angry sometimes and gets loud. It controls the anger and makes Ralph a better person.”

“But why won’t you let the people replace them? They only want to help.”

“They remind Ralph of who he is and who he was.”

Her hands fell away from him. They couldn't force that change and she would try force it either if he didn't want it. But then…“Why did you come with us to Cyberlife, if you know you didn't want replacements?”

“He’s not sure.” why. Maybe he was just lonely.”

“Maybe you were Ralph, but it’s okay. I’ll come see you and you can talk to me, so you don’t lonely.” She brought a hand to his face, brushing his hair back gently, slow movement to not startled him and allow him to pull away, but he didn’t. He smiled in leaned slightly into her touch.

“Thank you.” Her hand dropped but the smile stayed on her face. “Do...do you think Ralph should get new arms?”

“I think Ralph should do what he thinks is best for him, but he should know that no matter what he chooses, I’ll still be here for him.”

“Ralph thanks you again.”

Makayla smiled as she left the room, wondering how Ralph will be here in a place so different to what he was used to. She hoped he would be alright. Wandering back the way she first came, she found Connor sat in the same chair he had been in before, waiting for her like he said he would. That put her at ease. He stood when he saw her approach.

“Is everything alright detective?”

“Yeah, fine I think. Lieutenant, when did you get here?”

“A while ago,” Hank said from his chair, “You were asleep when I got here. Brought you a burger and fries but might be cold by now.”

“I could still probably eat it, I’m famished.”

“Might want to clean up a little first.” The blood on her hands had dried by now, but she knew Hank was right. She made her way to the bathroom, and was shocked when she saw her reflection in the mirror. There was not just blood on her hands, but down her neck, across her shoulders and matted in her hair. It would’ve been from carried Noah down the stairs. Moving him must’ve caused the bleeded to start again. She hadn’t realised how covered she was, but there was little she could do about it in a Cyberlife bathroom. Instead she washed her hands and face, removing and specks from across her cheeks, giving the appearance of blue freckles. When she emerged, Connor had sat back down again, but smiled slightly when he saw her.

“You guys can go. I’m going to wait until I can see Noah.”

“We’ll make sure everything down the station is sorted, so go home when you’re done here,” Lieutenant Anderson said. He looked to the android, waiting for a response of any form, but nothing. “Connor, I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Hank left, yet Connor still hadn’t moved from the chair, hadn’t spoken.

“Connor, you don’t have to stay. You should go.”

“You’ll have no way to get home.”

“I’ll get the bus or call a cab. Don’t worry about me.”

He stood and approach her. “I will try my best, however, I can make no promises.”

Makayla felt the light blush form on her cheeks, but she doubted he noticed or paid much attention, but she smiled anyway. He was truly so kind, so sweet and genuine and that just made her happy. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“We should go to lunch together.”

“Oh, okay, sure, I’d like that.” He smiled, bowed his head politely, before turning and leaving. She watched him walked down the corridor, and she couldn’t help but wonder what she did to deserve someone like him. He’d been so supportive, holding her hand when she herself didn’t know she needed it. He didn’t have to do that, many people wouldn’t, but he held her hand and continued to even after she’d fallen asleep, and even when she was awake again, dragging him behind her until she was ready to let go. It was appreciated greatly.


	9. Sick Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this really late chapter!

Makayla had to wait another hour or so before Doctor Trinneer appeared again, claiming that Noah was awake and waiting to see her. Makayla couldn’t help but smile a little. She was shown to his room and when she walked it, Noah turned his head and smiled.

He was clean of blood now, laying in a bed in white clothes like Ralph’s, but with a blanket pulled up past his waist. His arm had been replaced, a new HY600 arm in its place, hooking up with a few wires to monitor his vitals. There were also bandages on his other arm and his face and neck, but he was still smiling. His eyes were droopy though, easy to see, so he’d clearly just woken up from sedation.

“Makayla, you’re here.” His voice was a little strained but it was still his voice.

“Yeah, I’m here. How you feeling?”

“So much better, thanks to you and that friend of yours.” As he spoke, she pulled a chair up to his bedside and sat down.

“Connor, yeah, and I mean, Ralph probably deserves some credit too.”

“Ralph is strange guy, that’s for sure, but he did help me out when I needed it, so yeah, probably. I need to thank Connor, or at least pass the message on for me.”

“Of course, I’ll do that. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. But tell me what I’ve missed with you, I haven’t seen you since the protest.”

“I mean, after the protest everything was a mess, for everyone. While I was there, I met Brandon – where is Brandon? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he’s here. I suffered some internal bleeding but he’s good. It’s his last day at Cyberlife today, being discharged.”

“Thank God he’s alright, that’s all I wanted to here.”

“You two seem good friends.”

“Yeah. We met at the protest like I said, and we seemed to get along well. He was kind enough to offer up his home to me since I didn’t know where else to go. His family left Detroit after everything, so it’s just us in the house now.”

“You could’ve come to see me you know.”

“I should’ve of, I just didn’t know how if you’d want to see me.”

She took a hold is his hand on the bed, one finger with a thirium pump oximeter clipped to the end. “I wasn’t the best person, I understand that. I realised far too late how...alive you really were, all the androids, but I’ve learned since then, that, you know, I was a bit of an ass.”

“No you weren’t. I mean, you treated me like a machine, and that’s all I was, but since you seem to torn up about it, I forgive you.” There was sarcasm in his voice that made her chuckle, but she need to hear that nonetheless. “But anyway, what about you? What’s going on with you?”

“Well...I was transferred from the south precinct to the central station.”

“Wow, exciting stuff. And Connor’s your new partner?”

“Not exactly. I work with Lieutenant Anderson and Connor is his partner.”

“Like, the Lieutenant Anderson?”

“Yep, that’s the one.” Hank Anderson had been well known in the Detroit Police Department, and even outside, since his days as an officer, or so she’d heard, and as he worked up the ranks he became more of a handful with more of a temper. He was known through all the precincts as a tough guy to work with an even tougher guy to get along with. But Makayla was surprised; “He’s not as bad as everything says he is. I mean, we don’t get along but we don’t not get along.”

“That makes perfect sense.”

“You know what I mean!” She playfully punched his arm and he winces; stupid, she thought, don’t hit the guy in hospital bed. “He’s just a little difficult at times and-”

The door opened in a burst and Brandon came in, such relief plastered across his face. It was clear that both were relieved to see the other. Brandon was looking better too, she noted, since she hadn’t seen him other than that one occasion. Doctor Trinneer had told her he was doing well, but it was still nice to see it herself. They started talking, both getting swept up in concern for the other. She decided to leave, that she’d be back at some point anyway and she left.

She rode the bus back to her apartment and showered before anything else. The hot water felt nice over her body, and she spent longer in there than she needed to so her bill would be a little more if she kept it up. Hopefully she wouldn’t but she never knew in winter. It was hard to get some of the dried blood out of her hair, and she watched the water turn blue as it dripped from her body; she hoped it wouldn’t stain her hair. Eventually she pulled herself from the warmth when the cat started to meow incessantly.

After drying down and changing into leggings and a sweatshirt, she fed Cohen, and he purred in contempt as he chowed. She was hungry too, now that she thought about it. She could make herself something to eat, or...she could order in.

When the fried chicken came, she paid and tipped, and ate on the couch watching films. But she felt guilty, she should be at work, The guilt kept her from finishing her food, but Cohen didn’t seem to mind as he was very willing to finish it. Maybe she’d head in later, but for now she was tired and just wanted to sleep. Pulling a blanket over herself, she curled herself into a ball, the film still playing as she drifted off to sleep.

 

_Friday 3rd December  
~ 7:00_

Connor was awake at his usual time, but he laid in his bed beyond that, looking up at the ceiling and stroking Sumo’s head, who lay so comfortably alongside him. He should get up, make coffee and breakfast and feed the dog, yet he didn’t move. He was worried about Detective Johnson. He’d spent time before he powered down reading about human emotions and how they affected everyday life, especially emotional draining and when large amounts of stress and tension and anxiety is converted to large amounts of relief. He was worried she wouldn’t be able to cope with the shift, and emotions play a large part in human’s lives.

Emotions were difficult for him, not only to process but to understand. When he first went deviant, adjusting to feeling was hard. He suddenly felt guilty and scared and nervous, but also happy and excited. He felt feelings akin to those caused by hormones and neurotransmitters he didn’t even have, like adrenaline, serotonin and dopamine. It was a lot to process, and he still struggled.

Eventually though he did pull himself from bed, disrupting the poor dog, and plodding into the kitchen. He started the coffee maker going and fed Sumo who’d happily had followed him from his bedroom. Hank would be up eventually with about with about five minutes to spare before needed to head out the door. At least they weren’t called in early this time. Connor busied himself around the house, tidying away the clean plates and bowls and washing the dirty ones. He set the laundry to dry as well, waiting for Hank.

Connor was sat on the couch when Hank finally did emerge, groggy and tired like every morning, and he went straight to the coffee upon entering the kitchen. Connor didn’t speak and Hank didn’t either, though maybe it was just because Hank hadn’t seen him sat with the dog on his lap; Sumi was a clingy boy. Two mugs were drank and emptied before Hank left again, and Connor heard the shower turn on.

Connor dressed in his jeans and his shirt and his tie and jacket, pulled on socks and shoes and adjusted his hair, and he ready. Waiting for Hank had taught him to be patient, but the lieutenant did eventually emerge dressed and groomed, and they left for the precinct.

Detective Johnson had yet to arrive when Connor sat down and Hank slumped into his chair, coffee in hand. Connor didn’t expect her in, though she seemed more likely to arrive on time than them, however he wasn’t concerned. An hour passed, then another, but Detective Johnson wasn’t yet present, but he continued with his work. They were luckily not called out. When lunch time approached and Hank stood from his chair, pulling his coat on, Connor finally spoke up.

“Lieutenant, do you know where Detective Johnson is today?”

“She called in sick. Your terminal not get a notification?”

“No it did not.”

“I’ll sort that when we get back from lunch. Come on.” Connor did as he was told and followed Hank out the door. It was snowing ever lightly, and he looked up, watching the flakes fall in their unpredictable ways. They hopped in the car and Hank drove to the burger van that he loved so much. Connor was instructed to stay in the car and he did for once, ands Hank returned with his burger, deeming it too cold to stand outside today.

They remained in silence for a while as Hank began to eat, but Connor spoke eventually. “Did the notification say when Detective Johnson called in sick?”

“Nah, it didn’t.”

“I was intending on taking her to lunch today. Perhaps tomorrow.”

“So...you took my advice; she seem willing to go?”

“She said she’d like to, though I didn’t specify a day.”

“She’ll be back tomorrow and you can take her out then. You looking forward to it?”

“Yes, I believe so.” Hank made that face again that Connor didn’t quite understand yet, but he tried not to dwell on it. Instead he though of having lunch with Makayla in the little Mexican food place, sitting across from each other at the same table as before and listening to her talk. Maybe she’d have a lot to say and talk so fast that normal humans would have difficulty keeping up with, or maybe she’d only speak occasionally, or not at all, and they would just sit together while she ate and he spoke. And he hoped she would listen to what he had to say with as much eagerness as he did listening to her. Her voice had a wonderful quality of bringing warmth to him and bis biocomponents.

“Hey son, you okay?”

Connor’s head snapped to the sound. “Yes, I’m quite alright.”

“Your face was tinted blue there for a minute.”

“I’m fine Hank.” And the lieutenant went back to his burger.


	10. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I urm...missed last week, oops. Sorry about that but it's okay, here is todays/last weeks chapter, and I'll try to update on Friday too to get things back up to speed.
> 
> Thanks for understanding and enjoy!

_Monday 6th December  
~ 9:00 _

She’d missed only one day of work and she was dreading the paperwork she’d return too. Hopefully there wouldn’t be much since there were no big cases, and even if there was, she wasn’t there to write anything up afterwards. Thank God for the quiet weekend

She’d spent a lot of time the past days at Cyberlife, either with Noah and Brandon or with Ralph. She was getting used to the place. Surprisingly, she’d spent as much time, if not more, with Ralph than with Noah. With Cyberlife allowing Brandon to stay until Noah was discharged, they were always together and always had each other to talk to, but Ralph didn’t have that luxury.

It was obvious that some of the employees didn’t trust him, some were even scared of him. Makayla was able to calm him down when he got too loud and angry and he’d apologies though she wasn’t sure the employees believed he truly was. When she first visited him again, and when he realised it was her, he came bounding like a dog, smiling away, and he held out his arms straight in front of her, his palms up. New arms were in place of the old ones. He spoke of how happy he was, how proud he was of himself for letting go and it made her smile. They’d sit in his room and talk or draw or watch TV; he always seemed to appreciate her company even if they didn’t speak much.

Spending time at Cyberlife was the right thing to do, instead of being in work. She wasn’t in a fit state on Wednesday. She thought she would be, but when she awoke at three and struggled to get back to sleep, too worried to allow her mind to drift, she knew she couldn’t go in. If she was called out and she was too tired, somebody could die because of her incompetence and she would not have it.

Nonetheless, she was happy to return to work. The main downside of a motorbike was it’s handling on icy roads, however she was luck that everything had melted. She parked outside the station and she watched from her bike as Detective Reed walked in. He stared at her, but she wasn’t sure he realised who it was. She’d forgotten about that prick.

Lieutenant Anderson and Connor’s desks were empty as she suspected at this time – she was surprised Reed came in to work this early – and she made her way to her desk. There was a post-it stuck on her terminal and she pulled it off.

_When you can, read through the Thursday report, double check. We wrote all we could. HA._

Smiling, she scrunched it up and threw it in her trash. It felt good to be back in the chair as she switched on her computer and brought up the file. Reading through, most was covered from Connor’s point of view, she just needed to add in when she first found Noah and it would be complete. There was no need to write about the following days she thought. As she was finishing up, she caught a glimpse, and when she turned, she saw Anderson and Connor approaching their desks.

“Good morning,” she said with a smile.

“Good morning detective, I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

“Thanks Connor. Did I miss much Friday?”

“No. We had two disturbance call outs, one being the same protesters we dealt with on Tuesday. It was sorted quickly.”

“Glad to hear. I’ve finished up on the report by the way.”

The lieutenant thanked her and the work day began. But they weren’t at their desks long before they were called out to a home burglary, apparently committed by an android, and the house owners were injured. Makayla followed behind on her bike to the location, a nice house in the suburbs.

Makayla wished she could live in a place like that. A three story detached house was a stark contrast to her one floor apartment four flights of stairs up. Despite it being the month of December, the lawn was still green with a few patches of icy strands sticking up. The house had concrete steps and a concrete pathway upto the porch. It was all painted grey and white, with a dark wood door left ajar. There was a swing bench chained to the top, the metal rattling when the wind blew hard enough. Lieutenant Anderson pushed open the door and called in, an officer responding saying they were in the living room.

All three of them entered, and they saw a man and a woman sat on a couch, clearly husband and wife judging by the Mr and Mrs plates in a cabinet behind the dining table. He was comforting with an arm around her shoulder.

“Excuse me,” the oldest of them said, “I’m Lieutenant Anderson and this is my partner Connor. That’s Detective Johnson. We’re here about the break in.”

“Yes, finally,” the husband said. “I’m Michael Williams, and this is my wife Hannah. We believe our android stole from us.”

“What makes you believe this sir?” Makayla asked.

“My son Zachary and the android Samantha were the only two in, and when we got back, my son was alone in his room. Some of our belongings are missing. Nothing is broken.”

“May I speak to your son?”

“He’s upstairs. Turn left and it’s the far door on the right.”

“Thank you.” Makayla shuffled out of the room, leaving the other two to talk to the parents. The occasional stair creaked under her weight as she scaled them. She turned, and the far door on the right had the boys name stuck in in glittery blue letters. Knocking first, she waited a moment before entering. The boy was young, probably close to seven, and he was sat in middle of the room playing with a toy car. His hair was cut short and he wore a red t-shirt and black joggers and little blue socks.

He looked up when his door opened. “Hi Zachary, my name is Makayla and I’m with the police. Can I come in?” He nodded and continued to play. She sat herself down opposite. “I’m here with two other police officers who are downstairs talking to your parents about what happened with Samantha.”

“Her name was Sam and she didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Where you close with her?”

“She would play with me when mom and dad were at work.”

“And what sort of games would you play?”

“We would play dress-up and drive the diggers and play hide and seek and have tea parties. It was a lot of fun.”

“Your parents said she stole things from the house. Do you think she did?”

“No. Sam was nice to me and always made sure I was happy. She wouldn’t leave me and she wouldn’t steal either.” It was clear he was upset at the allegations, that he had a strong bond with Sam, who he clearly saw as far more than just an android; Makayla knew people that could use that sort of openness.

“If she didn’t take anything, then where did things go? And where is Sam?”

“People took her.”

“What people?”

“I didn’t see anybody, but she wouldn’t just leave me.” His toy car was taking a beating against the rug they sat on. Makayla could see small tears in his eye as well. It hurt to see this boy so sad, so she tried to distract him a little with the toys at hand. 

“Does your car have a name?” Zachary looked down at the plastic in his hand, then back at her.

“Why would it have a name? It’s a car.” He sounded so confused.

“So, cars can have names. I ride a motorbike and she’s called Smokey. You know why I call her smokey?” He shook his head with a keep little smile pulling at his lips. “Because if I spin the back wheel really, really fast, a giant cloud of smoke appears and I can zoom away like a rock star.” She swept a toy truck at the side of her in a swift movement, running it along the rug with an accompanying ‘nyoom’ sound simulating speed. Little Zachary laughed at the exaggerated action. Soon both of them were making silly sounds and flying the toys through the air, both of them smiling while doing so. As Makayla turned her head, she saw Connor stood in the doorway watching with a small smile of his face, until he realised he’d been spotted, and then it fell and he averted his gaze.

“Makayla,” Zachary asked, and she turned back to him, “Are you going to arrest Sam if you find her?”

“We will, but that doesn’t mean she’s guilty. We’ll ask questions first and if everything’s fine, like you say, then she can come home.”

“When you find her, can I come see her?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Promise?” He held out his hand, in little finger extended. She locked her pinky with his and they shook.

“I promise.” As their hands dropped apart, he smiled. “Now, I have to go, my friend is here.” Zachary turned to see Connor stood waiting, still just in the doorway.

“He’s an android like Sam?”

“He is yes, his name is Connor and he’s a police officer too.”

“Hi Zachary,” Connor said, stepping into the room and crouching on his heels. “I’m sorry but I need Makayla to come with me now.” Zachary nodded and resumed his toy car racing. Makayla started to stand, unfolding her legs, when Connor held out a hand to her, already upright. Taking the outstretched hand, she was pulled to her feet and they left the room, ruffling the boys hair and closing the door behind them on the way out.

They walked down the stairs, Connor ahead, and met Hank at the bottom waiting for them. “Done with the parents, not much else we can to except put out an APB for Samantha, hopefully we’ll get a tip quick like last time, but she’s a common model, AP700, lots of them about but we’ve got all we can.”

They thanked Mr and Mrs Williams as they were leaving. As Makayla stepped onto the sidewalk, ready to mould her bike again, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Connor looking at her. “Detective, if you wouldn’t mind, perhaps we could go to lunch like I suggested on Thursday? It may be a bit early however, but I though since we were already out it would be more convenient.”

“Yeah sure, as long as you don’t mind,” she said, turning to Hank.

“Be my guest, be nice to have a break from him.” He chuckled as he climbed into his car, starting the engine.

“I assume you don’t mind the bike.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Connor feeling more confident now, climbed on directly after her, settling himself and interlocking his fingers across her stomach comfortably. She pulled on her helmet, turned on the engine and drove.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Hopefully I'll be able to post once a week, but please so not quote me on that, no promises, but yeah...


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